


Don't let it wait

by Natallee_Kae



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Adler's kinda a dumbass, M/M, Nonbinary Bell, Pining, Post good ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28543131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natallee_Kae/pseuds/Natallee_Kae
Summary: “It was never personal.”In the aftermath of Adler's attempted execution, Bell tries to understand their place in world and in the team, while trying to make ammends with Adler. The team try to build up the structure they once had after their success at Solovetsky.
Relationships: Alex Mason/Frank Woods, Russell Adler/Bell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	1. Prologue

“It was never personal.”  
Two bullets flew simultaneously. The first, which had been fired a fraction of a fraction of a second before the other entered the man through his left shoulder. Recoiling, the weapon fell from his hands, bouncing behind him into the abyss below the cliff edge. Almost instantaneously afterwards, his own bullet barreled straight into the lower bicep of his opponent. Both opponents recoiled and staggered away from the other on the grassy clifftop. Unfortunately, what was intended to be a surprise kill without any retaliation seemed to have been anticipated, resulting in a stalemate.  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Adler roared wildly, clutching his bloody shoulder blade with his gloves.  
The other, Bell, screeched back in an amalgamation of pain, frustration and panic. “What’s wrong with me? You were gonna off me!” Their firearm remained in their unharmed hand as their injured arm hung weakly at their side. “Nothing personal…” they quoted incredulously with a hint of spite, “I helped you. I did what you asked. You took everything from me but I fucking helped you. What more do you want?” Their fingers grasped loosely around the grip of the pistol, raising it weakly at Adler without any seeming intention to kill, but as a failsafe. He took a step forward as the man in front of them collapsed to his knees.  
“You’re a loose end, Bell.” Adler barked, suppressing a wince. “I didn’t want to do this but I had to. It’s not about you or me. It’s bigger than us.” The wound on his torso was spewing a waterfall of blood over his fingers, dying his clothes a muddy amber. Bell’s wound was bleeding too, a painful acute agony which fueled their anger.  
They scowled at this. “Bigger than us? Did any of the others want me dead? Or did you feel it in your cold, dead heart that I was a liability.”  
“Hudson’s order. The others don’t know. I’m sorr-”  
“So you were planning on shoving me off the cliff and reporting me as missing?” They raised their gun higher, grip strengthening. “You’re heartless.”  
“You know I had no choice.”  
“I stopped it. I stopped it all. You didn’t have to kill me. You could have let me go. And you don’t know how much pain you’ve made me feel. Those memories of ‘Nam? Sure, I wasn’t there. But those memories. Those memories hurt so bad. All the things I’ve seen while fucking drugged up… and now you’re sick of your little pet project and you’re getting rid of me.”  
“You don’t need to kill me, Bell. We can work this out. We’ll get our wounds sorted and we can talk. I’ll let you live I swear. If you kill me we’ll both die anyways.”  
Bell scoffed. “I’m not an idiot. You’ll shoot me. Whether it’ll be now, in a week or in a year.”  
“I promise. Please.” Adler groaned.  
They took a deep breathe which got caught in their throat, coming out shaky and erratic. Adler looked helpless in front of them, pouring blood by the second. In a desperate moment of confliction, Bell dropped the gun. “You know I could never shoot you? It’s impossible for me. Maybe the person I was, but not the person I am. I won’t stoop to your level.”  
The world was silent for a moment. A piercing wind navigated from the east, through the branches of nearby trees, and into the lungs of the two soldiers on the cliff edge. It was cold, the world felt heartless and dead, as if all life had been sucked away from it, leaving only raw hatred revealed and exposed for its blatant malice. Suddenly, Adler spoke in a quiet chant which Bell strained to hear, “I had no choice. I didn’t want to hurt you like that. I knew it was wrong to do that to a person, but I had no choice. It was between one life or a million. And throughout these past months you proved time and time again that you were trustworthy, that you were going to do what we set out for you. After we told you what we did, you still helped us. I should trust you; I know. But I don’t trust who you were.”  
“I’m not that person anymore. Whoever they were, I’m not them. I don’t even know their name, Adler.”  
“I’m scared you’ll turn. You’ll betray us.”  
“Aren’t you scared anyone of us will betray you? You’ll just have to live with it, like you lived with it for all the time you’ve known me, and you know me better than I know myself. You all do. You just have to trust me.”  
“Okay.”  
“Okay?”  
“I trust you.”


	2. You are Bell

_You are Bell._

Were they? That was their name, yes. But if they were indeed Bell, _how_ were they Bell? By name only? Their name was given to them by people who had no regard for their humanity. No, Bell did not have a name like ‘Sarah’ or ‘John,’ Bell had a title.

Were they Bell by history? Undoubtably not. They had no history. Only fake memories. To them, fake memories were indistinguishable from real ones, but they had been told that all those memories were fabricated, so they had no real memories. Their history spanned about 3 months, they had been told. They felt like their history lasted 32 years, 3 months and 4 days, but their birthday must be fake too.

Bell often wondered how much of themselves was their own. Was their personality given to them by genetics or by the dosages of the mind washing chemicals? Were their choices even their own? Impossible to tell. What they knew for certain was that they had robbed of something they couldn’t even remember.

They had conflicting thoughts, occasionally. They had strong values, especially regarding to justice, peace, and humanity. This made it impossible to fathom the person they were before they were brainwashed. How could they be someone who believe in such distorted reasonings and disgusting ideas of Justice? Their original self must have been a filthy rat of a person, or at least an idiot. No sane person believes setting off nuclear bombs across Europe is morally just. On the other hand, Bell longed for something their prior self had; history.

A person’s history defines a person. Their place of birth, their relationships, their actions, their personality. Their prior self was a follower of Perseus, yes, but they had _parents_. They had memories of a childhood, regardless of how broken it was.

Bell understood that they still had biological parents, but they had no memories of them. That’s all they wanted; true memories. Bell had developed real memories over the past few months. They were memories of war, fighting and bloodshed. Memories of laying pinned to a gurney and being stabbed with needles as they fell into a hallucination haze of endless fighting in Vietnam. Memories of interrogation. What would it take to have a memory of a single happy moment?

They had a feeling they had never been happy once in their life.

Currently, Bell was in the process of developing more memories of the dingy safehouse, in recovery after Adler and theirs’s standoff. They couldn’t deny that the dusty walls and the dim, sickly lighting created a gross heaviness that they had grown to hate. It was uneasy being there, and was especially nauseating to glance at the room with the gurney and clear plastic sheets. Every surface seemed to be covered in a layer of grime and dirt; Bell felt sick touching anything in there.

And every object seemed to hold a bad emotion. Especially the evidence on the pinboard they had used often in the hunt for Perseus. Every scrap of paper, every bullet contained within their evidence bag would throw Bell back into the moment, back into the battle. Giving an item a glance would send them into momentary fear.

It would be the same with the only people they thought they knew. While before they were allies and trusted friends, they felt like an alien to them now. They felt like the people around them saw Bell for the person they were, someone Bell didn’t know. They felt trapped under perceptions of themselves they couldn’t see. They would do anything to make their friends trust them again.

That was easier said than done. Despite their contributions in stopping the launch of the nukes, they couldn’t ignore the fleeting looks of unease in Sims’ eyes, or how Adler would stand as stiff as a board around them. Before they had learnt of their true identity, they were oblivious to these signs. Now it was as clear as day: they weren’t trusted.

They felt just as much human as Sims, Woods or Hudson but no one seemed to see that.

The group seemed to be congregating in a lop-sided triangle, with Bell at the tip of it, sitting on top of the desk near the evidence board on their own. At the far end of the room on the left corner of the triangle was Woods and Mason in a heated discussion. It appeared that Woods was the one talking angrily while Mason listened amusedly. In the third corner, Lazar and Sims were having a polite conversation. Adler was close to them and (most likely not coincidently) furthest away from Bell than anyone else. They weren’t surprised. Whether it was guilt or fear, Adler would not talk to them. Sporting a sling to support his arm and shoulder, he stood sulking in the corner which didn’t suit his often cool personality. He still donned his aviators despite having no reason too.

Bell had bandages around their arm but it had mostly healed after the week and a half of tending to it. It was still tender and weak. It would become another gunshot scar to the collection, just like the one to the upper chest they had received from Arash’s rampage. They had survived it, but the old them died along with the poor truck driver.

Hudson hadn’t been happy about Adler’s choice to spare them. A comically loud altercation had broken out between a defensive Adler and an accusatory Hudson. Adler had won the argument, if winning meant getting Hudson to get off his back for at least a week.

Bell had lost the will to care about their life as much. They didn’t want to die as much as the primal instinct a human has to avoid death at all costs doesn’t. But in the long run, it was only an instinct. Bell knew their time was coming. If Hudson could convince Adler to do it, or if Hudson decided to break the rule and do it himself, it was coming.

Bell and Adler’s eyelines met for a tense moment. Bell couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind those glasses, but they sure didn’t want to push their boundary. Feeling a little awkward being alone, Bell decided to camp out in the darkroom for a few moments. It always felt less shameful to be alone in an empty room than a room with others. Besides, they were getting a headache. Pushing themselves off the desk, they disappeared behind the evidence board, already feeling better from the prying eyes of the others.

The red glow in that room was ominous and gloomy, but somehow enticing. It contained more photos in various stages of development which Bell didn’t bother looking at. It would only draw more bad emotions. Luckily, it was too dark to get a good look unless you were to get up close. The shelves were lined with countless chemicals, some Bell recognized, some they didn’t. In the back, a monitor stood in the shadows. They hated those things.

The darkness was soothing. It was privacy, a rare thing. A chance to be alone with your thoughts. For your body to belong to yourself, not for anyone else to look at or make judgements upon.

“Bell.” Privacy was over. A disembodied voice had to them called from the entrance. Bell felt a little like a rat in a corner, beady eyes glowing out of the shadows. A little embarrassed too. They had no reason to be in there and it would be impossible to explain why they were creeping around in the shadows.

“Woods.” Bell called back. The voice was unmistakable. It held such roughness and fury; it was like a lion’s roar.

“Look at us, two god damn legends in a room.” The gruff voice said lightly. Woods was a silhouette in the doorway. Bell couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated around him and Mason. Not only were they tough in size and personality, but they also were the protagonists of countless war stories. They were legends through and through. Bell wasn’t a legend. They were a nothing. But they were friendly to them, which made them feel a little welcome. As Woods approached, the lighting enveloped him like entering into an ocean of red water.

“Three legends.” another voice cheered from behind Woods, shoving him aside and entering the room. Woods issued a series of half-hearted complaints and curses before settling down. The third person, Mason, clapped Bell on the shoulder warmly. “How does it feel? Being a legend and all?”

“I get it, I get it. No need to rub it.”

“Okay we’ll stop fucking around.” Said Mason with a hint of a grin. “We saw you go in here. Just making sure you’re not guzzling phenidone.”

“As much as I want to - looks tasty as hell - I don’t think I need to develop anything in the back of my throat.” Bell responded jokingly. “How’s the party outside?”

“It’s a real killer. Hudson’s dancing on the table and Adler’s shotgunning his 5th beer. You’re really missing out on the action.” Woods joked. “My boy over here was just about to blow m-” Mason delivered a sharp punch to Woods’ shoulder.

Mason laughed “You maniac! Shut the fuck up. So what are you doing creeping around in here?”

“You know. Just developing some photos...” Mason raised his eyebrow. “Okay, I honestly don’t have a reason. I just felt weird. I needed to leave. Adler was looking at me funny.”

“Yeah, that guy does have a real funny face.” Mason pondered. Woods hummed in agreement.

“Agreed. The fucker’s weird. Can’t lie.” He said. “So, Bell. We wanted to know what the hell happened. When you and Adler got shot.”

Ah, so that was why they were here. To get the fresh scoop on the mysterious injuries they had received on a mysterious outing they had went on.

“I don’t know if I can say. It’s kind of fucked.”

“We can take kind of fucked. _We’re_ kind of fucked.” Mason said.

“Speak for yourself.” Muttered Woods.

“Alright.” Bell looked through the doorway to make sure no one was there. “Apparently Hudson ordered Adler to blast me right through the head as precaution after my objective had been completed. He took me to the middle of buttfuck nowhere and was about to straight up execute me at the edge of a cliff. The bastard. But I anticipated it. Shot him first. Right in the shoulder. He got my arm, not my head at least. Wouldn’t have survived that.”

“Bastard.” Mason hissed. Woods looked like he was about to punch a wall.

“That fucker is dea-“

“Shh! Don’t start anything, man. Just let it go. _I_ have.”

Mason shook his head. “Why _should_ you let it go? You’re not some rando. You’re part of the team. It would be the same if it were any of the other guys.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same. I’m not one of the team. Sure, I worked with you guys… but you shouldn’t trust me like you do. I’m a loose end.”

“Is that what he told you? It’s a lie and he knows it.”

“he had no choice. A command is a com-“

“Shut the fuck up with that. Hudson can’t do anything. Adler’s his own person. Albeit a slimy one…” Woods left the room in a hurry. Mason turned to look but didn’t try to stop him. Bell stood their helplessly.

“Alder’s going to beat my ass.” Bell groaned.

Mason shook his head once more. “No. He likes you. He would never."


	3. Disappearing quietly

Adler felt guilty. Guilty in so many facets. Was it possible for someone to fuck up that badly and please no one? He had done that somehow.

The first reason he felt guilty was because he betrayed his own instinct and caved under pressure. He could have and should have shot Bell. That was the responsible thing to do. Bell had already ticked all the boxes and did all their assignments. They had no use. There were no benefits to them living, only risks. By leaving them alive, he left a door wide open. A bridge between the CIA and the Russians. The only smart thing to do would be to collapse the bridge.

And he disobeyed Hudson too. It was true that Hudson was not responsible for Bell, and it wasn’t his decision to make. But there was a grey area. Hudson was his superior, and Bell was Adler’s. That would make Hudson Bell’s superior. But Bell was not assigned as Hudson’s responsibility. Bell was not Hudson’s asset.

This grey area came from the fine line between seeing Bell as a person and seeing Bell as an asset. They thought and talked, but in the end Adler had free reign to do what he liked to his asset. If that was inject more of the serum, so be it. If it was to eliminate them, so be it. He was free to make those choices regardless of what Hudson thought or didn’t think. Bell was a fabricated person, so it wouldn’t be wrong to destroy them.

But that was the problem. It was becoming more and more impossible to see Bell as an object. Yes, they were programmed to be a certain way, but they weren’t a robot. That had all the capabilities, the emotions, the weaknesses of a person and that made Adler feel guilty.

Adler couldn’t ignore the pangs of emotion that cracked his solid resolve whenever Bell seemed vulnerable or upset. They had a soft personality but a strong guard. They clearly held burdens from the mission to kill Perseus. And from the interrogation. There were obvious signs of PTSD and anxiety (another thing Adler felt responsible for.)

He couldn’t blame himself for doing those things to them. A lot was on the line. More specifically, hundreds millions of fucking lives were on the line. He wasn’t going to have sympathy for one person and kill seven hundred million.

Though, whenever he noticed Bell glance at that room in pure terror, Adler couldn’t help but feel the icy claws of regret crawl up his spine.

He never considered himself an emotional person, but he was getting pretty fucking sappy. He couldn’t help but watch Bell. Watch them flinch at loud noises or rub their eyes in exhaustion. Avert their gaze from photos. He noticed them fidget and bounce their knee. Wring their hands together. Bite their nails.

He definitely noticed them creep away into the darkroom. It was a nonchalant movement. An insignificant disappearance. Something you wouldn’t notice unless you were watching them. Bell seemed to become good at that; disappearing quietly. The conversations carried on around him. Sims and Lazar near him were discussing something trivial, he caught the words “Christmas” and “North Carolina.” Polite conversation.

He turned to look through the window at Hudson on a phone call in the office. He had received so much shit from him and quite frankly Adler did not want to even look at that asshole. The guy was talking on the phone angrily, as angrily Hudson could express physically. He rifled through some papers as he pressed the handset to his ear. His hands clenched. Adler thought that he should loosen up a bit.

Turning back, Adler noticed that Woods and Mason had disappeared somewhere too. They couldn’t have gone through the back door since they would have had to walk right by him. The office was obviously out of the question. He would have probably noticed them leave through the front. Woods and Mason weren’t exactly graceful people when they weren’t in fight mode, so it was surprising they had vanished so unnoticeably. Where they in the dark room? That would be odd. Maybe there was some secret pre-planned congregation he had missed the memo on. Maybe any second now Sims and Lazar would follow suit.

This was proven untrue after five solid minutes passed with Sims and Lazar continuing their courteous talks without as much as a single glance to the dark room. Strange.

Suddenly, like a sudden punch to the arm, Adler remembered something. He had forgotten about the stack of documents he had been _specifically_ assigned to do by Hudson. He inwardly groaned. Hudson was already on his ass and he didn’t want another fuck up to piss him off even further. He had better get to that soon. His shoulder ached as it rested in his sling. He would have to use his non-dominant hand to write. Just great.

It was also great that the papers were located in the office. The office with Hudson. Brilliant.

Slinking over to the room, he peered coolly into the window to see Hudson facing the other way. He turned the door handle as silently as possible and attempted to perform a stealth attack on those papers. Unfortunately, the door creaked loudly. It was Adler’s lucky day apparently. Hudson flipped around like someone had just tried to murder him. Upon seeing Adler, he gave an extremely displeased look while continuing to talk into the mouthpiece. He frowned, his eyes unreadable under his shades, and turned back to his conversation. The two of them seemed to share the common interested of sunglasses. That was the only thing they shared.

As smoothly as possible, Adler ducked into the office and dug around in a pile of papers, pulling out the manilla folder he was looking for. All he needed to do was leave the room.

And then Adler heard the sound of a phone being hung up.

“Adler.”

“Hudson.” Adler adjusted his glasses calmy and nodded at his superior. The gentle hum of the ventilation filled the silence.

“So,” Hudson started as he paced slowly, his face not changing from a passive frown, “are we going to talk about what happened a week and a half ago?”

“Haven’t we already talked?”

“You haven’t explained yourself.” He answered abruptly. “You didn’t follow through with what I told you so your explanation has to be goddamn flawless.”

“You really want to know why I did what I did?” Adler asked. “It’s easy. They’re useful. They can help us in future operations. We have an actual ‘in’ into the Russian operations. There’s no reason we should close it off.”

“You’re not stupid, Adler. You know yourself that the ‘in’ you’re saying is a positive thing, is exactly what will be our downfall. The guy contacts one of his Russian buddies to end us… it’ll be as easy as a fucking phone call. What are you _really_ doing here?”

“Firstly, they’re not a fucking guy.” Adler replied harshly. “And I’m not doing anything, I’m just being logical. We keep our friend monitored at all times, we use them for their intel. They already gave up the location of the launch site and ruined the Russians’ main operation. Why would they turn on us now of all times?”

“Because if your friend here gave the wrong info, that would have been a death sentence. Bell wanted to live and keep the connection between us and them alive.”

“You haven’t fought beside Bell. You don’t know them. They wouldn’t betray us. They just wouldn’t.”

“You trust him too much. It’s going to ruin everything we’ve built up and it’s all going to fall because of a _hunch_ you had. I don’t know what you’re pulling here but you need to figure out this strange attachment you have on Bell and fucking soon before we’re done.”

“It’s ‘ _them’_. Not him _.”_

Hudson didn’t honour him with a reply and turned back to his work. Adler left the room with a bizarre pit in his stomach and beads of sweat forming at his hairline which he swiftly wiped as he appeared out into the open area.


	4. Heart to heart

He needed a serious cool down. And a smoke, which was not ‘cool’ technically but would calm him down nonetheless. Woods stood outside in the post rain outdoor alley behind the safehouse. He was getting angry again, and about nothing worth it. He didn’t mean to, but something about himself became extremely pissed when his buddies’ safeties came into question.

Adler had been gone when he left the darkroom so he left through the backdoor without questioning. The dickface was probably off doing lines of coke in the bathroom. Upon viewing a crumpled soda can on the floor, Woods kicked it across the asphalt in one colossal swing which sent it flying into the darkness. He heard the tinny collision off in the distance and contently leant against the cracked, concrete wall.

He noticed a light. A dusty lightbulb. He found a dirty switch and flicked it down. The LED came to life, casting a sickly yellow glow around the alley and attracting hordes of mosquitoes and moths hungry for the light. The newfound light source illuminated the current state of the weather as the light droplets of rain became visible. The barely noticeable drizzle was irritating. _If it’s going to rain, why this weak shit? Just fucking rain._ Under the cover of an overhanging slab, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and lifted it to his mouth, inhaling deeply. The familiar taste of ash and smoke entered his system. He knew these cancer-sticks were killing him but _god_ he couldn’t live without it. He’d probably have committed arson by now.

West berlin was a shithole, he decided. He hadn’t seen much of it, but based on the constant rain he had experienced almost every single night at the safehouse, it couldn’t get much better. Taking another drag, he put his other pocket into his pant-pocket, finding lint and dirt, and a crumpled receipt from three weeks ago. Compressing the slip of paper into a ball, he tossed it as far as he could. Frustratingly, due to its lack of mass, it barely made it far, and fell into a puddle where he could watch it slowly disintegrate.

He sighed.

Was he being too quick to blame Adler? If he stopped for moment he would probably find a million ways that guy was making the best decision or had no choice to do what seemed like the morally wrong thing to do. Woods didn’t stop to think. He always relied on gut decisions to a stubborn degree. In combat there’s no time to take a think-break, only quick decisions. In the end, it didn’t matter how well you did something if you ended up a corpse anyway.

Woods wasn’t sure if it was about Bell anymore. Bell could have been anyone. Lazar, Park, Sims, or _Mason_. If it had been Mason… he didn’t want to think about the horrible, painful shit he would have inflicted upon Adler.

Regardless who it was, Adler was about to hurt someone on the team. That was a piece of shit move. A dirty, douche thing to do to someone who trusted you. Well, seeing how Adler’s attempt of eliminating Bell went, it was clear that Bell had been anticipating a betrayal.

The kid was useful. They couldn’t have accomplished what they did without them. Bell selling the CIA out was unlikely. And they were so god damn innocent, too. The way they admired Mason and him reminded Woods of a child meeting their heroes. It was hard to remember that Bell had literally killed people.

The door handle rattle behind him. Someone was struggling with the lock from the inside of the building. He had a feeling it was Mason. By now, the two of them could distinguish each other by the slightest hints of movement. Mason was a very meticulous, persistent person. He carried himself like a wolf, quiet and calculating, subtle and analytical. He was more like a Doberman, really, with his fearless and confident demeanour, and an unshakable loyalty. A loyalty to Woods. He had the kind of stoic, silent expression that made everyone instantly recognize his sly intelligence just with a single glance into his eyes. Around Woods he was just a smug bitch.

They were opposites. If someone were to look at Woods, they would see a brutish, angry idiot. He wasn’t _that_ stupid, but he couldn’t match his friend’s subtle intimidation. 

All he knew was that he could probably tell Mason’s heartbeat from a million different other people’s heartbeats.

The door swung open. He was correct in his assumption. Mason stood there in the doorway, looking tired and worn out. Woods’ blunt had mostly burnt up, so he threw the butt into the rain where it extinguished. Mason stepped forward to stand adjacent to him.

“Hey, Frank.” He let out quietly, still facing into the darkness. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular but there was something compelling that made him want to watch the shadows. Maybe something would come out of there and fill up the pained silence. He was so tired, he couldn’t think logically. There was a whole meter of space between the two still, an oddly uncomfortable meter, Mason thought.

“Alex.” Woods was following the trend of not looking at the other. He suddenly noticed that the LED was emitting a buzzing sound. Had he noticed that before?

“I’m exhausted, Frank. I’m so fucking tired. But not like, sleep tired. Like dead, tired.” Mason closed his eyes and felt the spray of the rain against his face. Woods cleared his throat and controlled his conditioned instinct to reply with a joking insult or line.

“I know. Me too. We’re all fucking tired. The whole operation’s sucked the life outta us.”

“Tell me about it.” Mason snorted and nodded agreeingly. “You know, I think I forgive Adler. Not “I’m over it” forgiveness. More like, “I understand why” forgiveness. It still makes me angry. Aren’t you angry? You’re always angry.”

Woods ignored the subtle dig, internally admitting it to be true. “It makes my blood boil, man. But I’ve decided it’s not worth it getting so worked up.”

“Woah, Frank. That’s real mature of you.” He replied mockingly. “Where was that attitude when you were going off about Castro to my cousin?”

“Don’t bring _that_ up right now.”

“Sure.” He dismissed. “Bell’s fine, if you’re wondering. They're chilling in the dark.” Woods actually wasn’t wondering, but it was good to know. “I think we get a couple days leave. We should get a drink. If you decide to leave the house, that is.”

“Shut the fuck up man.” He shoved Mason forward jokingly. Mason chuckles before the smile was wiped off his face, as his feet slipped on the wet ground. In a drawn out tumble, he toppled to the ground onto his knees and hands. Woods broke out into loud bursts of deep, uncontrollable laughter.

“Holy shit, dude! That was amazing!”

“You asshole!” Mason picked himself up from the ground. “My hands are dirty.” He stepped forward and wiped his hands on the arm of Woods' jacket swiftly and laughed evilly. 

“Fucker! This is a nice jacket.”

“These were nice pants!”

“Yeah. Very nice cheap plain grey cargo pants.”

“Very nice cheap ugly plain torn jacket.”

“You looked so stupid,” Woods snickered “I didn’t even push you that hard.”

“What can I say? I’m a fragile guy.” Mason now had damp patches on his knees and Woods had handprints of mud on his arm. They were very uncivilized people. “Give me a smoke, will you?” Woods pulled out a cigarette and handed it to Mason. Mason placed it in his mouth and Woods held the lighter to the end of it. “You know I trust you, right? More than anyone else.” Woods gave him a knowing look.

“I get the feeling you’re about to tell me something important.”

“Good guess.” He nodded. “It’s about the numbers. Well, I still see them. They never went away.”

“You’re an idiot. I already knew that. You don’t make it obvious enough… or maybe I just know you too well. Those cocksuckers did a real number on you. Fuck! Ignore the pun. But your eyes will glaze over like you’re seeing your great aunt who died 20 years ago and she’s got a gun on you. Something like that. I just assumed you still saw ‘em.”

Mason nodded in understanding and contemplation. “I didn’t want to lie to you but I didn’t want you to worry. And there’s always the risk of being… eliminated. Like Bell. For being a risk. I know you wouldn’t do that! I trust you. I do. But I was just scared.”

“Why don’t the two of you bond over your shared experiences? Have a heart to heart.”

“I can just have a heart to heart with you about how fucking filthy we are.” Mason said, giving a pointed look at Woods.

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t the one who fell. And Alex. I trust you too. More than anyone else.”

“Are you going to be an asshole if I do something sappy?” Mason tossed his cigarette.

“Wha-“Woods started before Mason wrapped his arms around the other, holding him in a strong embrace. Woods stood surprised for a moment, before reciprocating the hug. He took a deep breath in, savouring the physical contact he hadn’t had in a year and the warmth of Mason’s body.

“I never took you for the lovey-dovey type, Alex.”

“Nothing lovey-dovey about it. Just two guys being buds.”

“Sure thing.”


	5. Friend

“Jesus Christ.” Mason and Woods split apart as the door swung open. It was Sims and he looked shocked, apologetic and amused. “Sorry for interrupting your moment,” he snorted, “but you should keep the romance out of work.” Mason laughed while Woods gave Sims a look that screamed ‘you saw nothing.’

“Nothing wrong with hugging a bro.” Mason snickered, making Sims laugh in return. Woods still looked mildly embarrassed and annoyed, but had softened up a bit.

Woods crossed his arms. “Alright enough of this yapping. What do you need?”

“There’s a bit of a situation. Come have a look.” Sims said hurriedly, looking back indoors and disappearing inside, letting the door swing shut. Mason and Woods gave each other a look before Mason caught the door and the two followed. Once they crossed the dark hallway, it was evident that a scene had just transpired a moment ago. A violent one. Hudson, Adler, Bell and Lazar were scattered around the centre of the room. Hudson was laying, leaning against the wall, clearly in pain as he dazedly nurtured a strained arm. Adler was on the floor nearby, attempting to get up. He looked angry, his aviators crushed on floor beside him. Though, based on the situation, it seemed unlikely the broken glasses were causing his fury. Bell stood up straight across the room from there, looking shell-shocked. Lazar was beside them, assessing the damage with a blank expression. On the floor, two meters away from Hudson’s hand, lay a 1911 handgun, locked and loaded.

“The fuck!” Woods shouted loudly across the room. “Someone care to explain?” Bell snapped out of their reverie and their head snapped towards him. Suddenly, they didn’t look so shocked, but resigned. Accepting. They narrowed their eyes and rubbed their eyes with their hands, sighing harshly. They stepped up to the desk and sat on it like earlier in a quiet, furious contemplation, looking at the floor. Lazar look grimly at them, and then back at Woods, Mason and Sims desperately. Woods grunted angrily. “Since no one wants to share, let’s go one step at a time. What the fuck is a pistol doing on the floor?” He stepped towards it and picked it up. “It’s fucking loaded!” he yelled upon examination, pulling out the magazine and lifting it up to show the room, as if it weren’t obvious anyway. Pulling back the slide, a round fell onto the floor.

“We know.” Lazar commented calmly but sadly, “Hudson had it on Bell.” Sims shook his head silently in disappointment. Bell sat unmoving, not stirring slightly. Mason stepped forward too, looking at Adler who was grimacing in pain. His sling had come undone and he cradled his shoulder. Following Mason’s eyeline, Lazar began again, “Adler stopped him. He knocked it out of his hand.” Mason held out a hand for Adler, who took it and lifted himself upright. He leant down to pick up his glasses. The left arm dangled loosely from the hinge, and the right lens popped out. They were unwearable. He put them in his pocket and walked directly in front of Hudson, his shadow falling over the sitting man.

“You absolute scum.” He stated cruelly. He took a menacing step forward, clenching his fist. Bell sensed the situation and hurriedly called out.

“Stop it. It’s not worth it.” Adler didn’t look away, only looking more threatening.

Hudson finally looked up at Adler with a dissatisfied expression, speaking clearly. “You weren’t going to do it, and you were going to kill us all. You disappoint me, Adler.”

“Fucki- you’re heartless. ”

Hudson chuckled infuriatingly. “You are so ignorant. You think you can save everyone? Your empathy is going to destroy you. No, some have to die for the good of others. I thought you knew this already but you’ve gone soft.”

“You’ve gone insane. No. You were already insane. Why would I trust you? I mean, you were fine with setting off nukes in Europe. You were fine with millions of deaths. Why wouldn’t you be fine with one more? What if it was your fucking friend, huh?”

“I don’t make friends in war, Adler. Why would you? Why have you let yourself become attached?”

Adler clenched his hand harder and grunted in frustration, raising his arm in preparation to initiate a blow right to his jaw. Before he could lower his fist, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Bell stood there.

“Stop it.” They said. He stopped. In shock he turned silently to Bell who didn’t look back. “You have no right. You’re a hypocrite, Adler. Don’t pretend you’re above it.” They said firmly with a touch of venom, before walking back to the desk. Adler opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words.

“Someone get him out of here.” Woods said, gesturing to Hudson. Lazar made a movement suggesting that he was going to do so.

Bell didn’t look to see what happened to Hudson. They heard a scuffle, angry voices. Eventually it was silent. A couple minutes later they looked up to see that he was no longer there. For some reason they weren’t relieved about it. Nor were they surprised about it, but they were definitely impressed with Hudson’s courage. Did he think he was going to get away with it? Thinking about it, Hudson probably wouldn’t have been reprimanded officially for killing them. The team obviously didn’t stand for it, but Hudson would just be transferred over to another team where he would start with a clean slate. Bell wasn’t exactly considered equal outside of their little circle.

They didn’t exactly feel buddy-buddy with the people inside the circle either, but at least they considered Bell a human being. At least they were somewhat against Hudson.

They heard footsteps approach and movement as papers and objects were moved aside on the desk. A weight of a person sat down beside them on the other side, leaving a reasonable distance between the two. Whoever it was, they were smart enough to not breach their personal space. The person breathed quietly, as if they were constraining each breath. The two sat there in silence. Bell wasn’t going to speak first, so it was the other who either was going to talk, or leave.

Finally, the person spoke. “Bell,” he said. It was a baritone voice, deep, course and unsure of itself. He was waiting for a response, Bell didn’t feel like giving one. They turned away, purposely facing in the opposite direction hoping he would get the hint. “Bell,” the man repeated louder.

“Adler.” Bell warned.

Adler, invigorated with a response, took a deep breath, calculating his words. “I’m sorry.”

Bell closed their eyes in resignation. “I know. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“Things will change. I can change.”

“I can’t trust you.” Bell said sadly. A second after the fact, they laughed cynically at how the situation had reversed. “It’s stupid. I know you won’t shoot me, but I get a gut reaction around you. Like you’re going to jump me whenever I let my guard down. I guess I developed that kind of gut instincts under Perseus. Probably learned to stay in line and keep my head down otherwise I would be silently shot in the back of the head and no one would talk of me anymore. And then that just became how I lived my life. Don’t speak out, don’t let people in. So no, I can’t trust you.”

“I’m truly sorry you had to go through th-“

“Shut up with that bullshit. You’re not sorry about that. Not even _I_ can defend myself. Fucking Perseus... I can’t believe I did that shit. I can’t believe I was going to be the accomplice to a terror attack.”

“You said it yourself. That wasn’t you.”

“I was wrong. It was me. I can’t remember it, but it was me. And no matter what, I’m not going to be seen as anyone other than that person. It serves me right anyway.”

“Now who’s talking bullshit? You’re fucking _Bell._ You _stopped_ the nukes from going off. You stopped the plan. Even if you were part of its orchestration, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Adler reached out and placed a hand on Bell’s back.

“What the fuck made you change your mind since a week ago?” Bell shrugged his hand off.

“Thinking. A lot of it. And I didn’t want to be a hypocrite. I… I never believed what I said about you. I just wanted to believe what Hudson told me. But the asshole’s gone. You don’t have to worry.”

Bell laughed. “I’m not worried. I was never worried. Ever since you pulled your gun on me, I realized that I didn’t care about my life enough to defend it. Hudson was doing the most logical thing. The right thing. I don’t blame him.”

“Stop. Just stop. You’re going to start telling me you’re suicidal, aren’t you? Just… we’ll get you a shrink, fucking meds, whatever it takes. Just don’t think like that.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“Why’d you make me non-binary? Like they, them pronouns, all that?”

“It was just to be respectful I guess.” Adler said unsurely, paused and decided to be more honest. “It was to make you less human. I mean- I worded that poorly. If you had no gender then we’d be less inclined to see you as an equal. It’s horrible, I know.”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. I still have a fucking gender, It’s just not male or female. Why the fuck did you have to do that?”

“What’s the problem?”

“Well the dysphoria kind of sucks. Like I was a dude once and now I’m not.”

“Do you want us to call yo-“

“No! I’m not a man anymore. It’s fine. It’s just weird, is all.” Bell cleared their throat. “Do you see me as a person?”

“I do. I swear. I can’t lie to you Bell, I used to not. Up until way too late I saw you as an asset. It was wrong of me. But I can’t help but see you as a friend.”

Bell smiled slightly and nodded. They turned to look at Adler for the first time. He looked solemn, and lost without the glasses. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but don’t force it. Don’t pretend for me.”

“I’m not pretending.” He insisted.

“Sure.”

“Don’t get snarky with me, Bell. You know I’m not.”

“If you say so.” Bell smiled weakly. “I’m sorry about your glasses.”

Adler pulled them out of his pocket. “Oh, these things?” he asked and held it up. “Pieces of plastic. Easily replaced.”

“I assume they were some rare luxury item.”

“Don’t assume anything about me.” He smirked.


End file.
